King Elk Forest picked up the bird and above the din i said “that’s the last song you’ll ever sing”

Zephrine had just crossed back in to the territory when the sound rose among the cedars. She paused for just a moment to catch her breath, trying to determine the easiest way to get to the source of the summons.

Her legs were tired. There was a stinging taste in the back of her throat. There was no time to fetch a drink or anything if she was to make an appearance, and the urgency in the sound made her think it was important - even for a trotter - to be present.

She arrived in time to hear the tail-end of a question, her ears flicking towards the voice of Freobearn prior to a shy glance, sweeping a look over them and the swarthy brown Ravinger, then Cenric, who was upon a ridge and looked quite noble; the sight of him made her nervous. Why had they been called together?

Zephrine wanted to sink to her haunches somewhere out-of-the-way but found she was too focused on her surroundings. A habit of casing the area, keeping alert, had instilled itself after the fire. Everything became sharp to her eyes with the subtle clarity of her nerves.